


on the nature of daylight

by steverogers



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Peaky Blinders AU, probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 04:26:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15259416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steverogers/pseuds/steverogers
Summary: She pressed a soft kiss into the horse’s mane and whispered a few soft words. Not a prayer, no, Kara no longer believed in those -- not after what she saw in France. They were soft words of encouragement. She overheard an old wive’s tale once when she was younger -- back when her parents were still alive. A horse would mimic a person’s energy. The calmer they remained, the calmer the horse. She pressed her energy into it. None of the bad, all the good. The good that made her the best candidate to lead the Peaky Blinders. She lingered for a moment more, her eyes slammed shut as she evened out the thumping of her heart. She counted back from twenty and once she reached zero, Kara was centered.ora 1920's Peaky Blinder's AU that I decided to finally write.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> alright, so, this is my first fic in a while and it's my first work for supercorp. i hope you enjoy it. i got really into it and slammed this chapter out, which means i didn't proof this so sorry! i switched things around for this fic to make sense. obviously i changed that women could serve in the war. also rampant homophobia isn't really present because i can control things like that in this verse.

The soft pattering of feet and sharp whispers swirled around with the ever present ash that was now commonplace in Birmingham. Bodies clung behind tables and pressed against walls hoping not to be seen. A young boy with a dirty face was yanked down beside a barrel. Trouble was coming. If someone was new in town, they might not feel it. But for the people who lived in the slums of the city, it was thick -- almost as thick as the ash from the factory. The steady thrumming of their hearts almost made it hard to hear, until... 

 

A sleek black horse appeared in the center of the muddy road. Its footfalls were dampened by the wet ground, but it didn’t stop any of the hidden faces from staring. Kara Danvers, leader of the Peaky Blinders sat on top with no saddle, outfitted in a custom suit and her flat cap snug against her head. She said nothing, didn’t even spare a passing glance at those not so well hidden. Her business wasn’t with them. All of this was a show -- something to get the people of the city to speak. 

 

An older Asian man appeared in front of the horse with a young girl next to him. Kara clicked her tongue once to stop the horse from taking another step. If the people watching hadn’t just seen the horse walking down the street, they would have now thought it a statue. It was unsettling how still both it and Kara sat. 

 

“This is her.” The gang leader leaned forward and eyed them both up and down. Her face didn’t move. “The fortune teller?” Once the man nodded, she gestured for them to continue. Without speaking, the young girl produced a cloth bag and poured the contents into her hand. A fine red powder gathered in her palm as she began to speak in her native tongue. It was too soft for Kara to make out what she was saying, but it didn’t matter. As quickly as she began, it ended with the fortune telling blowing the powder in the horse’s face. The horse made a small whinny before Kara calmed it down with a pat to its neck and few reassuring words.

 

Taking the reins, Kara pulled the horse until it was walking in a small circle. Once she was facing the way she entered, she spoke up. There was a fire in her voice as it boomed out. “Horse’s named Monanghan Boy. Kempton, 3 o’clock, Monday. Don’t miss it and don’t forget to bet.” She was satisfied in the way her voice boomed out and clicked her tongue to her the horse back into motion. She kept the pace steady allowing everyone to stare and see. It would generate more rumors and whispers -- exactly what she wanted. 

 

Life in Birmingham was different after the war. She was different. No one was the same -- the war effected everyone in their own way. Alex drank. Sam was with a new girl on any given night. Eliza’s face no longer brightly shined with smiles and sweet words. She hadn’t left the city, but the war still came for her just the same. Her fingers tightened on the reins. She needed to stay focused. All of this show would be for nothing if she slipped off the horse. No one wanted to bet on a dud. 

 

As she rode through the city, men tipped their caps at her. Police officers stopped walking to allow her to pass. Soft words of praise were slung her way, but still her face remained vacant. Up ahead, a preacher spouted verses from the Bible. His voice rang louder than the machines inside the nearby factory. Finally, her face broke and she offered him a soft smile. He winked at her and she continued on her way. 

 

It didn’t take her much longer to reach the stables. She handed the horse off to the boy working. She pressed a soft kiss into the horse's mane and whispered a few soft words. Not a prayer, no, Kara no longer believed in those -- not after what she saw in France. They were soft words of encouragement. She overheard an old wive’s tale once when she was younger -- back when her parents were still alive. A horse would mimic a person’s energy. The calmer they remained, the calmer the horse. She pressed her energy into it. None of the bad, all the good. The good that made her the best candidate to lead the Peaky Blinders. She lingered for a moment more, her eyes slammed shut as she evened out the thumping of her heart. She counted back from twenty and once she reached zero, Kara was centered.

 

Cap pulled low on her head, Kara made the short walk to the business. She met the eye of a few people on her walk, but no one stopped her. No one was feeling stupid today and that was an encouraging sign. Pushing open the door to the residence side of the business, she found Ruby next to the fire, a wicked smile on her face. Kara stopped to grab an apple from the table, her eyes sliding towards the young girl. “What are you up to then, Rubes?” Her hair was tangled and Kara couldn’t help but laugh. When she was met with no answer, she ruffled her hair gently. “Stay out of trouble, yeah?” 

 

Taking a bite of her apple, Kara pulled open the double doors and chaos erupted. Voices shouted, pages flipped, and fists pounded. A smirk found her features as she slipped into the cacophony of noise. Usually, she hated loud noises, but this was relaxing to her. It meant business and right now, times were tough. Without money, the Blinders couldn’t survive. The war wasn’t even a year behind them. Eliza kept them going while the whole lot of them were away in France. Kara wouldn’t allow them to go broke right after slipping into the leadership role. 

 

Before she could take another bite of her apple, she felt a hand on her upper arm ushering her into a corner office. Alex, her older adoptive sister. With the door shut firmly behind them, she let out a sigh. Whatever was to follow would require more sustenance. Kara took another big bite of the apple, but said nothing. She wasn’t going to help Alex along. If she wanted to say something, she would figure it out. Chewing the apple slowly, the seconds ticked by. “What the fuck are you thinking, Kara?” There it was. 

 

She swallowed and licked the juice from her lips. “About what in particular?” She raised her eyebrows before taking another bite. “You’ll have to be a little more specific.” The apple now finished, she dumped it into an empty bin before returning her eyes to her sister. She rubbed the stickiness onto the back of her pants. 

 

“The Chinese? You know we don’t fuck with the Chinese, especially not when it comes to business. People are going to talk!” Alex’s face was a bright red as she spoke. Apparently the anger had been festering for a while. Maybe because Kara took the business from her. Or maybe she was hitting the bottle too early. Either way, Kara didn’t have time for this. Not today of all days. More pressing matters clouded her mind. “Since when do you guarantee a win, Kara? Are you fixing the race?” No answer and that only seemed to fuel the fire raging beneath her sister’s skin. “Does Maxwell Lord know what you’re doing? Of course he doesn’t.” The question came out in a hiss. “So again, what are you thinking?”

 

Picking her teeth with her finger, Kara finally allowed Alex the satisfaction of a response. Her face remained steadfast as she leaned in subtly. “I think so you don’t have to.” She saw the flash of hurt as soon as she said it, but that was the point. Alex needed to learn to be less emotional. Her quick temper led them into quite a bit of trouble. Kara had to remain emotionless, even tempered so that the Peaky Blinders could stay on top. It was harsh, probably too harsh, but it’ll all be forgotten. Or so she hoped. “Are we done here?” She didn’t move from her position until Alex said nothing for a few seconds. Satisfied, she pushed off the wall and yanked the door open.

 

“Family meeting, 8 o’clock. Don’t fucking miss it.” Kara didn’t bother looking over her shoulder. She would be there, no matter how much her mind was on other matters. Slipping out of building, she began her slow walk to Noonan’s. A drink felt like the right thing. She had earned it. The bets were coming and Alex was sated -- for now. 

 

Grateful that she had the foresight to roll a few extra cigarettes this morning and tuck them in her tarnished silver case, she now slipped one between her lips. With a practiced hand, she ignited the tip of a match and lit it. Inhaling, she held the smoke in her lungs until she needed to breathe. It took twenty seconds from the first puff for the nicotine to hit her system. Those seconds ticked by agonizingly slow. Then the relief hit her and the ever present knot in her chest seemed to loosen a fraction of an inch. It was enough. 

 

\-----

 

Dressed in all green, Lena walked down the muddy central lane in Birmingham toward Noonan’s. Ash billowed around her. She’d need to clean the dress and hat when she returned to her rented room. Her heels kept sinking into the mud, but her face showed no sign of discomfort. To show weakness would only invite trouble. And right now, the trouble Lena wanted wasn’t in sight. She needed to focus on the task at hand -- a job. Purse nestled in the crook of her elbow, she pushed open the door to the bar. 

 

It was empty save a man with an apron around his waist. He turned to her and stared for a moment before speaking. “You lost, miss?” 

 

With a shake of her head, she took a step toward him, but allowed them both some space. “No, sir.” Her accent bled through every word and she knew it caught his attention when his eyes narrowed. “I’m here about the barmaid job.” With a scoff, the man shook his head. 

 

“The position’s been filled.” He went back to cleaning the round table with a dirty cloth. 

 

She took another step toward him daring him to look up. “The ad was in yesterday’s paper. It couldn’t possibly already be filled. I’m not asking for any favors, just asking for employment.” She made sure to keep her tone steady even as the anger flared underneath. 

 

The man finally stopped what he was doing and turned to study her. She didn’t move, didn’t even dare to breathe. Unlike most eyes on her, the bar owner’s didn’t bother her. He wasn’t undressing her or wondering how he could take her into the back room and have his way with her. He was worried and it softened her demeanor slightly. “You’re too pretty and too good to work here, love.” She took a step toward him as he threw the dirty rag over his shoulder. “Where are you from?”

 

The question stopped her, but only for a second. “Galway. But I worked in Dublin.” She tacked on the last bit, his own accent not fitting what she has heard around Birmingham. Digging around her bag, she presented her working history. “Here. I’ve got a list of references. Call them. I know what I’m doing.” Before he can argue again, she took the hat off her head and laid it on the now clean tabletop. “Just look and listen, okay?” Her purse dropped next to it as she begins to sing softly. It was something her father had taught her when she was younger. She focused on steady breathing and cadence as she picked up a full spittoon and emptied it into a bucket she found on the bar. She worked her way around until each spittoon was empty. 

 

Placing the now full bucket on the floor in front of the owner, she looked up at him. “See? My singing made the men cry and stop their fighting.” 

 

A soft smirk played on the edges of her mouth as she spoke. From the look on his face, she knew she got the job. The singing sealed the deal. “Aye, you better know a lot of songs then.” Shaking his hand, she gathered her belongings and followed him into the back room. Job secured meant she could breathe a little easier tonight.

 

\-----

 

Eight o’clock on the dot and Alex practically preened from the head of the living room. Kara watched with mild interest. Drink and nicotine call to her. It would be best to keep quiet and see what information her sister has to offer. Picking up the glass of gin, she smelled the liquid before taking a tentative sip. It would do for now.

 

“Last night, there was a new copper at the Italian bar on the other side of town. She was handing out these.” Alex made sure she had everyone’s rapt attention before she pulled out the stack of flyers she had been hiding all day. Eliza, Sam, and Kara all took one. Kara met Eliza’s eyes and they both then looked back at Alex. “She’s recruiting for Protestant Irish lads to become specials. What the fuck do you think she’s doing?” 

 

Without being prompted, Kara answered. “She’s the new chief inspector -- Lillian Luthor. She’s going to clean up the city, I reckon. The last four years she’s been stationed in Belfast. She cleared out a ton of IRA and I think she means to do the same here. We’ve got IRA and the communists. She’ll have her hands full.” She can feel the way Eliza watched her. It would only be a matter of time before her adoptive mother pulled her aside to ask what the fuck was going on, but she would wait. She wouldn’t do it in front of the others and for that, Kara was grateful. 

 

The weight of the day settled on her shoulders and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could bear to stay inside the stuffy house. The air quality outside wasn’t much better, but it afforded her more space. Her ragtag family was needed, but she hated how they looked to her for every answer and every solution. 

 

Except now, she can see the anger flaring in Alex’s eyes once again. She hated that there was a distance between them now. But a war and running a gang would do that to a pair of siblings. Kara wanted nothing more than to slip her arms around her older sister and tell her she was sorry. She wasn’t a kid anymore. She didn’t get scared of the dark or things that went bump outside her window. Her fear no longer was of the unknown, but of the known. She had lived fear and now it was an eager visitor anytime she closed her eyes. Insomnia was her only sweet release. Sleep was hard to find and she was grateful for a little reprieve. The night was hers to wander the city or drown her grief in a bottle. No one faulted her for it. She didn’t let it interfere in the business -- unlike Alex or Sam. 

 

“How do you know all that?” 

 

The words hit her square in the chest. The venom laced in the space between them made her uncomfortable, but there wasn’t much Kara could do. She straightened herself out and crumpled the paper in her hand. She tossed it onto the table before speaking. “I asked the coppers on our take. All my information comes with just the slightest bit of research. There’s no real reason to worry. She’s here after the communists. They’ve been riling up the factory workers.” She punctuated the statement with a lift of an eyebrow. She can’t help the barb. She wanted to prickle Alex to see how far she could push her. Not the right move, but Kara didn’t care anymore. Not today. Not now. 

 

Kara’s fingers wrapped around the glass. She was careful not to let it snap in her grasp. Before her mind can wander, Sam spoke up. “Let her fucking try to come after us. We’ll give her a hello from the Peaky Blinders.” Sam snatched her own flat cap from the chair beside her and held it in the ready position -- the razor’s hidden in the brim of all their caps ready to cut and slice. “We’ll give her a Birmingham smile.” The rest of the family was now riled up, all joining Sam in with their own taunts. Except Alex.

 

The irritation now wrapped around the base of Kara’s own spine. It would now take hold there and refuse to let go until she did something about it. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

 

Her mouth grew dry. Draining the rest of her gin, she placed the glass gingerly on the table in front of Eliza. “I’m telling you now.” 

 

The room grew quiet and Kara took that as a sign to make her exit. She had enough. She didn’t miss the look Eliza gave her. She knew sooner rather than later they’d have to talk. She trusted her mother more than the rest of the gang. She knew they’d do anything for her, but right now she needed brains over blind loyalty. 

 

Her boots clicked on the hardwood as she slipped out of the house and into the dark Birmingham streets. Her feet knew the way without her even having to think it -- Noonan’s. Liquor, nicotine, and maybe a pretty girl or two to look at. Kara had earned it or she believed she did. Anything to take her mind off the new chief inspector and why she traveled all the way from Belfast to Birmingham at the behest of Winston Churchill. Her stomach turned, but she quickly shook it off. The raucous sounds of drunk men and women hit her ears and she sighed with relief. 

 

Pushing the door open, she was greeted with the sound of singing. No one noticed her at first and for that, Kara was always grateful. Apparently gratitude was in multitudes today. She arrived without the rest of her entourage and that made it easier for her to blend in. She pushed through the crowd and found a spot next to a column. Leaning against it, she lit a cigarette and looked around until her eyes fell on a woman standing on the stairs leading the singing. Their eyes met and Kara swore she felt lighter. She choked on the smoke in her lungs, but no one appeared to notice. Allowing it to filter from her nose, she shifted until she had a better view of the woman. 

 

The barmaid was dressed in a long flowing skirt with a simple white top that was buttoned all the way to her neck. Her dark hair was softly curled around her face and hadn’t gone flat with all the heat in the hair. Her eyes though, soft green, or was it blue? The color seemed to change with each blink of her eyes. They held Kara’s attention. Soon, the singing faded out and all she could hear was the own thumping of her heart against her ribcage. Nothing had made her feel this way, not since before the war. Not since Alice Monroe slipped her sweaty hand in hers and tugged her behind a row barrels and kissed her until her lungs screamed for oxygen. The kiss had been for good luck in France and she swore that it kept her safe for the first few weeks. But Kara wasn’t interested by the time she returned home. She hadn’t felt interested -- felt alive until she saw those eyes. 

 

Someone jostled Kara from behind and it broke her from her trance. “Watch it.” Her voice came out in a low growl and everyone in the bar stopped singing, except for the green eyed beauty. She didn’t know any better. The man apologized and seemed to disappear into the crowd. 

 

Kara wiped the love struck look off her face and turned back only to find the bar owner, M’yrnn giving her an apologetic look. “Sorry, Miss Danvers. We haven’t had any singing in this bar since the war?” He was a good man, always paid his dues to the Blinders on time. He never had a bad word to say about anyone, except maybe her. But he had the good sense to make sure she never heard about it. 

 

Her eyes flitted back to the woman on the steps. She hadn’t moved. Her voice no longer rang out into the air. Instead, her eyes tracked Kara as she shifted from foot to foot. Finally, she tore her eyes from the new barmaid and made her expression flat. “Why do you think that is?” She allowed the question to hang pregnant in the air before she took a step back and disappeared into the crowd. She made sure not to look over her shoulder as she pushed the door to Noonan’s open. 

 

The air outside hit her hard and she took only a few steps before she found herself hugging the wall. Who was that woman? Kara knew almost every face worth knowing in Birmingham. And now, some angelic creature had slipped past her radar and landed in the center of her world. It simply wouldn’t do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her fingers curled around the edges of her cap and she felt the razor sitting there begin to dig into her skin. A little more pressure and red droplets would appear. Before she could push harder, Eliza spoke again. “You have your mother’s common sense, but your father’s devilment. I see them fighting. Let your mother win.” Without a word or a look at Eliza, Kara pulled herself up and carried herself out of the church. She had the good sense not to argue with the older woman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright, here's chapter two. there's some violence and language in this chapter. i'd rather be safe than sorry. i promise next chapter with have more kara and lena interactions. but there's a lot of things to get us to that point. i hope you'll stick with me a little longer. also, i did my best to edit, if there are mistakes... we will rebuild

The church smelled like varnish and candle wax. Somehow, it remained one of the only pristine, or as close as it could get, buildings in Birmingham. Hesitating at the door, Kara snatched the flat cap off her head before stepping inside. It was a few degrees cooler than the street outside. Churches made her nervous ever since her parents’ funeral. The smell of dying flowers, the muffled sniffles, and hushed whispers. Everything about a church made her skin crawl. She much preferred the stables where the air was acrid with feces and urine. She felt more at peace among the muck than in the faded light of a church. But still, she had no choice. Eliza sent word that she wanted to speak. The church would offer them respite from the outside world. Alex and Sam wouldn’t dare enter.

 

Her eyes wildly darted around. The church was empty save for her adoptive mother kneeling in prayer with a dark hat covering her hair. With steady steps, Kara slipped into the pew behind her and waited. She knew it wasn’t wise to interrupt Eliza while she prayed. The blind faith made her curious more than anything else. Her mother had lost a lot -- her husband, a sense of security, sleep on the best of nights. But somehow, she maintained her faith. She found time to run the Peaky Blinders and attend church every Sunday while the girls were away at war -- a ritual. Perhaps it was a way to keep herself grounded. 

 

Before Kara could muse further, she saw Eliza do the sign of the cross before lifting herself up and back onto the pew. After a few more seconds of peace, she turned to look at her daughter. She studied her face for what seemed like an obscene length of time. Kara found herself flushed with the unwanted attention. “What have you been hiding, Kara Danvers?” She set her jaw at the question. She suddenly felt like she was fifteen again and caught sneaking out for the first time. Eliza had a way of looking at her and just knowing. It was irritating, especially when she _did_ have something to hide. Before she could even deny, Eliza leaned forward. “Don’t you dare lie to me. I can see the wheels turning in your head. I’ve allowed you time to get your head straight, but you talk to me now.” Her tone was soft and reverent. Kara doubted she’d raise her voice in the presence of God. 

 

The gang leader looked up and studied the crucifix at the front of the church. She fleetingly wondered what it would feel like to be strung up like that. Perhaps more enjoyable than the situation she found herself in now. She licked her lips, her mouth suddenly feeling dry. “It was supposed to be an easy job.” Kara’s eyes dropped to her hands where she was nervously fidgeting with her flat cap. “I sent four of our men out to steal me four bikes with petrol engines. It was an easy job -- in and out. They must have been drunk when they entered the warehouse. Maybe the job seemed too easy, I don’t fucking know.” Her jaw tightened as her fingers dug into the wool of her cap. She knew in the future she would have to be far more specific. “They picked up the wrong crates. Maybe they went into the proofing bay instead of the export bay. It seems like a minor detail.” She finally looked up, her cheeks still ablaze, but this time with anger instead of embarrassment. “Inside the crates were twenty-five Lewis machine guns, ten thousand rounds of ammunition, fifty semi-automatic rifles, and two hundred pistols with shells all outbound for Libya.” Kara didn’t dare to look up again. Her eyes were transfixed on the dark wood of the pew in front of her. “The crates are in the stables and out of the rain. The guns weren’t yet greased.”

 

Before Kara could even glance up to see the stormy look in Eliza’s eyes, she felt the sting of her hand against her cheek. Well deserved in this instance, but it didn’t stop the flare of anger in the pit of her belly. Kara had known nothing but violence for years now, but she knew she’d never lift a hand toward her adoptive mother. Counting back from five, she exhaled hotly from her nose before finally training her blue eyes on Eliza. “Is this why Lillian Luthor was sent from Belfast?” 

 

Her eyes remained steady. All Kara could do was offer a lame shrug. “I’m not exactly sure, Liza.” It was mostly the truth. Churchill didn’t only send the chief inspector to Birmingham to clean it up. Kara suspected the bureaucratic fuck didn’t care about helping any of England unless it furthered his agenda. 

 

Silence hung around them for a few moments. The slap to Kara’s face darkened. Without checking in a mirror, she knew she’d have a mark. “You’re not a fool, Kara. What’s gotten into you? You know what will happen to you if you try to sell those. You’ll hang! They won’t let this rest. You have to get rid of them. You cannot keep them. Dump them in the river. The whole lot of ‘em.” The desperation and concern in her voice gave Kara pause. Her head hung in shame and she wanted nothing more than to get out of this church. It was suffocating her. “Don’t look at your feet. Look at me when I’m talking to you. Tell me you’ll get rid of them.” 

 

The air felt heavy then -- rotting flowers invading her senses and bringing her back to when she was twelve years old. She needed to leave the church immediately, but Eliza wouldn’t let this lie. She couldn’t run and hope for the best. Not this time. With an shaky breath, she lifted her eyes to meet her adoptive mother’s gaze. It was filled with fury and Kara understood it well. “J’onn won’t move the guns under a full moon. Three days, Liza. Three days when the moon wanes I’ll move the guns. They’ll be gone.” The truth. She didn’t need to tell Eliza that her mind was at war. 

 

Her fingers curled around the edges of her cap and she felt the razor sitting there begin to dig into her skin. A little more pressure and red droplets would appear. Before she could push harder, Eliza spoke again. “You have your mother’s common sense, but your father’s devilment. I see them fighting. Let your mother win.” Without a word or a look at Eliza, Kara pulled herself up and carried herself out of the church. She had the good sense not to argue with the older woman.

\-----

Voices bounced around like high powered shell volley. Her heeled boots clicked on the stairs. The disgust on her face was prominent. She stood there for a second, dressed from head to toe in black -- a pocket watch hanging loosely from her waistcoat. Her eyes took in the chaos around her. Birmingham needed her. She knew this now. Belfast still had a lot of work left, but she had started it. She had taken the axe and hit the stone and saw it crack. She would do the same here.

 

Stepping down into the chaos, Lillian walked the room slowly. Men and women both stopped to stare at her. Conversation began to fizzle out and it gave her a sense of power. She continued to walk, her hands tightly clasped behind her back. Once all the attention was on her, she began to speak. “Babies sleeping on the street while they suckle mud off their mother’s teet. Whores doing their business on the next patch of land over. Young boys pickpocketing anyone who they deem fit. Police officers who tip their hats at the Peaky Blinders as they walk past.” Her voice rung out into the hall. No one spoke or sniffled. Attention on her was rapt and the feeling of power flowed through her. “The lot of you should be ashamed of yourselves. You swore to protect this city from the very thing you now pledge loyalty to.” She spat the words with venom she didn’t even know she could muster. 

 

Making her way through the crowd, she made sure to stare down each copper that was brave enough to look at her square in the face. Climbing the stage at the end of the hall, she put herself behind the podium. “I don’t trust any of you, not until you earn my trust. And ah, my trust is a fickle thing. It won’t happen overnight.” She paused for dramatic effect. The room still was eerily quiet. “I’d like to introduce you to the men and women I do trust.” Behind her, people began to filter in. Row after row of them lined up on either side of the stage. They stood stoic and quiet -- almost like statues. “They will be your new brothers and sisters on the force. They will be my eyes and ears and do the jobs that you cannot handle. They’ll do for me what I ask, when I ask it without reporting to the scum festering these streets.” 

 

Leaning over the podium with a wicked light in her eyes, she spoke one final thing. “God help those who stand in our way.”

\-----

Laughter echoed off the brick buildings as Alex led two girls inside the local theatre. An employee waved them through the line and Alex threw her head back with joy. Her arms around each of them as she pulled them inside the darkened room. “When you’re with a Peaky Blinder, the red carpet is always rolled out.” Her tone was light and airy as she pulled them both to the center of the theatre. “I want both sets of your lips on me. Make me that promise.” A fit of giggles permeated the air at her statement as the three of them settled down into their chairs. Alex heard the rushing of blood past her ears. She earned this -- a night out with two beautiful women. Their names eluded her at the moment, but they weren’t necessary. She wasn’t looking to settle down, no. Just a night away from the shadow of her younger sister and the worried eye of her mother.

 

Turning her face, she captured the lips of the spunky brunette -- Eleanor maybe. She tasted like the scotch they'd been sharing from her flask earlier. It was a visceral reaction, they way Alex moaned into her mouth wantonly. Her skin crackled at every point the women touched. Each brush against her weighed her down. It took her out of her head and into the moment. Soft sighs filled her ears and she felt more at home than she had since returning from France. The blonde on her left bit along her jaw and her eyes slipped shut to enjoy the attention. She bit at Eleanor’s bottom lip and was about to tsk her for the pause in her movements when she was yanked hard over the red velvet seat.

 

“Oye, what the fuck? Do you know who I am?” She looked around wildly and saw coppers in uniform. Her eyes landed on the women who were now shrieking and trying to get away from the scene. “You work for me! Answer me damnit!” Her voice grew hoarse with each yell. Licking her lips, she tasted Eleanor and the scotch and she wanted to turn back time to steal one last kiss. “It’ll be alright, loves. Tell Kara.” It was the last thing she was able to get out before they put a black cloth over her head. 

 

After what seemed like hours, the hood was yanked off her head and a fist replaced it. The shock of the hit was enough to place Alex off balance. She stumbled, but two pairs of hands held her in place and presented her to another office who had his sleeves rolled up. “That all you got?” She laughed as her vision blurred. The next hit came to her gut. She doubled over, but was quickly brought back up. It worked in cutting off her laughter. 

 

She took each blow like a champion. Alex was no stranger to a fight. In a sick way, it made her miss her life before the war. The smell of sweat, the ringing bell signaling the start of the fight, the jeers from the crowd. No one had quicker feet than Alex Danvers. She could knock out a man twice her size in less than a round. Her chin was made out of steel and her blood of ice. No one could rock her. Never knocked out and she never surrendered. But then the war came and stole everything from her -- boxing, the Blinders, her sense of self. Now all she had was alcohol, pretty women, and the dull ache that seemed to radiate from her entire body. 

 

Blinking the blood out of her eyes, she let out a weak laugh that sounded more like a strangled cat than her intended purpose. It seemed to unnerve the police officers who had been working her over. Apparently, they weren’t used to someone who didn’t cower in fear when they entered a room. A knock on the door pulled them from their trance and they dragged Alex from the back wall to a chair. She almost slipped out, but a firm hand in her hair yanked her back. “Careful, love, I like it when you’re a bit rough.” The laughter this time was cut off by a hacking cough. Whoever worked her ribs over did a good job. 

 

Before she could continue with another quip, the door opened. The light shining through the crack in the door hurt her eyes. The room where she currently sat was dark and musty. Probably in the basement of the police station. A room usually used to house old supplies and records, now cleared out for a darker purpose. A woman slipped in and shut the door behind her. Alex did the best to blink the blood out of her eyes. Her eyes refused to focus, so she closed them and looked again. Better. “Ah, so this is the attack dog of the Peaky Blinders.” A bitter laugh followed and Alex almost launched herself from the chair to attack the woman. A pair of strong hands kept her from moving even an inch -- the fingers pressing hard into her shoulder muscles. 

 

Alex’s attention pulled for only a second, but it was enough to miss the punch that followed. The chief inspector struck her hard and she groaned in response. Her nose was most certainly broken now and the taste of iron was thick on her tongue. Plucking the flat cap from a nearby self, Lillian wiped her hands on it with a soft chuckle. She pulled apart the brim and shook her head. “Primitive. Razors? I guess I shouldn’t expect much from animals.” Dropping the cap into Alex’s lap, she stepped forward and grabbed her face roughly. The strangled gasp was enough to bring a smile back to her lips. “Tell me about the robbery.” She searched her face as she asked, excitement pooling in her stomach. 

 

Panic coursed through her veins. Alex could remember the last time she was scared, but it didn’t compare to this. The feral look on the inspector’s face was enough to make her limbs shake. Or maybe she was past the point of exhaustion and pain. All her body wanted her to do was close her eyes and slip into a deep sleep for a few hours. “What robbery? What the fuck are you talking about?” Her mind raced. She couldn’t remember the last robbery the Blinders pulled off. At least not one that would warrant this type of reaction. “I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about. I know fuck all about some robbery. If you’re done being a lunatic, I’d like to be let go now.” Her voice quavered with a bit of fear, but she hoped no one picked up on it. 

 

With a sneer, Lillian bent down and studied Alex’s face. She spent years dealing with liars and the dregs of society. She could smell a lie from a mile away. But something about the way Alex’s eyes darted over her face made her believe the woman. The woman might be a complete idiot, but she wasn’t lying. Not about the robbery. Still, she couldn’t help herself. Her fingers wrapped around the redhead’s pointer finger and yanked it back until it snapped. The sound was satisfying and finally brought a smile to her mouth. The screams from the girl were enough to satisfy her. “Do you know what happens when you’ve been cleaning scum like you and your family off the streets for years? You grow to anticipate and are able to pick a lie just from the way someone answers your questions. And you, Alex Danvers, just aren’t smart enough to lie to me.” 

 

To add insult to injury, the inspector reached out a hand to ruffle the woman’s hair. “I promise you, Alex, that within a year, your family’s bodies will be floating face down in the river. The hold you have on Birmingham will be no longer. I won’t stop until every last one of you no longer draw breath.” The words hit the eldest Danvers square in the chest. Her mind wandered to Ruby and Sam and Kara. No matter how much she currently disliked Kara, she didn’t want anything to happen to her. Her chest tightened and she felt the same claustrophobia that almost swallowed her whole in France. She focused on her breathing and the pain that started in her nose and finger and ended with her ribs. It brought her back to the moment and she looked up at Lillian, but said nothing. “But perhaps, you and I could help each other. Maybe the Peaky Blinders could help each other. If you agree to be my eyes and ears on the streets, maybe the lot of you won’t have to float.” 

 

With a snap of her fingers, Lillian had Alex hauled up and out of the chair. “Get her out of here.” Relief flooded the redhead’s body as she was helped out the door and toward freedom. “Miss Danvers.” She looked over her shoulder at the monster who was still shrouded in shadows. “Don’t forget what I said.” 

 

Jaw set, she turned from her and shrugged the hands off her body. She didn’t need help from anymore. Each step hurt, but she managed to make it out of the police station. The sun hurt her eyes, but she kept going until she collapsed in the street across from the bookkeeping office.

\-----

The smoke hung thick in the air. Even in the reserved room at Noonan’s, Kara could practically feel the nicotine hit her bloodstream without lighting her own cigarette. She swore she wouldn’t return back to this place, not with the new barmaid working. But Alex had been taken by the new chief inspector and there was nothing she could do. For the first time in a long time, Kara felt helpless. Her feet betrayed her by leading her to the bar and she was far too weak to refuse. She pushed open the doors, saw the woman who now haunted her thoughts, and nodded at M’yrnn before slipping behind the ornately carved doors.

 

A few other members of the Blinders had gathered there to share a pint or a bottle. Nothing they could do until Alex was released. Luckily, Eliza stayed at home pacing the living room up and down until Kara was sure there was a worn pattern. She couldn’t take the look in her eyes -- accusing with no warmth. Sam had left in a hurry, not wanting to get tangled up in blood business. Kara not long after. Every place in Birmingham felt suffocating as of late. Except Noonan’s. The energy inside the bar was electric. 

 

Her throat felt dry. Pushing a few rowdy members away, she stood up in front of the partition that opened up directly behind the bar. Closing her eyes, she fumbled around her breast pocket until she came up with the silver case that held a few previously rolled cigarettes. She didn’t trust her hands to roll anything fresh. She could practically feel them shaking just from being so close to the raven haired barmaid. Bringing the cigarette to her lips, she balanced it there precariously before sliding open the window. “Bottle of rum please.” She spoke steady and strong all while lighting the cigarette. 

 

Finally, she looked up and was met with a sea of green -- warm and welcoming. She almost swayed backwards, but caught herself. It was worry. Worry over her sister and the new chief inspector. Her being off balance had nothing to do with the new barmaid who had a voice made of honey and smile filled with fire. She could practically see the woman’s mind working as soon as their eyes met. Inhaling, she held the smoke for a few seconds before blowing it out the side of her mouth. She didn’t look away from her. She wouldn’t be the first one to break this time. 

 

“White or dark?” Her voice lilted softly and Kara exhaled softly at the sound of it. Even her speaking voice could entrance her. Maybe she was a siren sent from the sea to drag her down to its depths. It was where she truly belonged. 

 

She shrugged before she answered. “Don’t matter to me as long as I can drink it.” She ashed the cigarette straight on the ground before leaning over the window. She watched with curious eyes as the barmaid flitted around effortlessly. She offered smiles when necessary, sass when disrespected, and a wink to make the lads go wild. Kara wanted to touch her. 

 

M’yrnn stopped what he was doing to pull Lena far enough away from the window that none of the Blinders would hear him. “Anything from that room is on the house, do you understand?” 

 

Questions could and would be asked later, but Lena knew better than to keep the mysterious woman with the bright eyes waiting. Her fingers danced over the different color bottles until stopping on her favorite rum. She wiped it off with her apron before approaching the window. “Your rum, ma’am.” The blonde held out a few dollar bills for Lena to take and she shook her head a few times. “Boss says it’s on the house.” She pushed the bottle into her hands to give her something to do. Something about the way the woman looked at her made her feel warm inside. Desire wrapped around the base of her spine and she swore her mind was playing tricks on her. 

 

“You a street walker?” The question rocked her back to reality. Despite being warned to be kind to the all the patrons, especially those in the lounge, her face scrunched up in anger. She clung to self control -- to not tearing apart the woman who runs the whole of Birmingham. Instead, she shook her head once refusing to break eye contact. “Then you’re in the wrong place, love.” The words stung and all Lena could do was slam the window shut effectively separating the two of them. Her neck warms and she knew it wasn’t from the humid air in the bar. It was the stupid woman with the clear blue eyes who stared at her as if she knew her entire story. It was the way her body wanted more and her mind screamed no. It was a push and pull and all Lena wanted to do was to climb aboard the next ship to Ireland and never look back. 

 

Fingers curled into her palms, she sighed softly at the feeling of the blunt nails kissing her skin. The pain centered her. She could focus now. But before she could turn her attention back to the patrons of Noonan’s, M’yrnn was back at her side with a worried look on his face. “When I tell you something is on the house, don’t talk to those people. They are dangerous. If they want you, there is little I can do to stop them.” His eyes wandered around the bar at a high rate. “Luckily, Kara Danvers hasn’t wanted anyone since she got back from France. Keep your head down and do your job. Stay away from her.” The warning did little to wane her interest. Instead, Lena found herself looking for way to talk to the woman who just insulted and excited her.

\-----

News of Alex’s release reached Noonan's quickly. Ruby appeared with her flat cap in hand and out of breath. “Kara, come quick. Alex is a right mess.” She eyed the unopened of rum on the table before looking back at the leader. “And bring that.” She was out of the door and running back down the street before Kara could extinguish her cigarette. Tucking the bottle under her arm, she swung the door to the private room open. Looking over her shoulder, she met the eyes of the barmaid and tipped her own cap before exiting onto the street. Her own words echoed around in her head. She had no idea why she asked if the woman was a street walker. It came out almost as if an attempt at self sabotage. If the woman hated her, it would make it easier on the both of them. Kara felt her self control slipping away and it worried her.

 

The brisk walk back to their combined home and business took no longer than five minutes. She kept herself distracted with thoughts of the Irish barmaid and the guns sitting securely at J’onn’s stables. Rubbing her hands together to stave off the cold, she finally stepped inside. The living room was a bustle of activity. Ruby beat her there and was bouncing around grabbing things that Eliza and Sam yelled for. Alex sat in the middle of it all -- face bloodied and contorted in pain. She hissed and winced, but didn’t say much else. She looked tired and ready to slip into bed. Even through the blood, Kara could see the deep purple bruises already started to form. Even if she found her sister quick tempered and sometimes irrational, she loved her above all else. Lillian Luthor would pay for laying a finger on her family. 

 

Uncorking the bottle with her teeth, she handed it over to Alex. “Drink up.” Relief flooded her face as she took a long pull from the bottle. It burned on the way down, but it was better the pain radiating from everywhere on her body. “What happened?” Kara crossed her arms and leaned against the nearest wall with a slight frown on her features. 

 

“It was the bloody chief inspector. The one from Ireland. But she ain’t here for the communists or IRA.” She shook her head before taking another big swig from the bottle. She was on her way to oblivion, but she knew she needed to explain to Kara before she tumbled into bed. A loud hiss and curse followed as Eliza popped her finger back into place. “Mother, fuck! A little warning next time?” Eliza looked at her sheepishly, but Alex waved her off. Sam came round to wipe her face of blood. Each pass of the cloth hurt worse than the last, but she said nothing. Once she was finished, Alex looked back at Kara. “Churchill sent her because of a robbery. Some guns or something. I told her I didn’t know shit about it because I don’t know shit all about it. She says the Blinders can help her, be the eyes and ears. We should vote on it.” 

 

Kara met Eliza’s eyes over Alex’s shoulder. The heat rose onto the apples of her cheeks, but she said nothing for a few more minutes. So her suspicions were right; it was the guns. Her mind flew with possibilities, but she made sure to keep her expression neutral. She made Eliza a promise and she didn’t wanted to be questioned about it so soon. “No.” It came out clear as day and she instantly say the irritation creep into Alex’s eyes. “We will not work for a woman who had you kidnapped off the streets and tortured. I won’t hear of it and we certainly won’t take a vote on it.” In two quick steps, she stood in front of Alex. Bending down, she gingerly placed a kiss to the top of her head before heading back out into the night. 

 

The walk to J’onn’s yard took more than fifteen minutes. Kara smoked a cigarette, but kept her head down. She didn’t want many people to see her. Her mind was made up now. If Lillian wanted those guns back, she would have to pay. Nothing in life was free and Kara was going to make sure the new chief inspector never forgot that. Flicking the butt into the street outside the gates, she licked her lips and tasted tobacco. Entering the yard, she headed toward the canal. J’onn would be waiting for her. The moon had waned and it was safe. 

 

“J’onn.” Kara called his named loud enough for the tall man to turn and look at her. His face filled with warmth when he recognized her. Gone were the days when he could sweep her into his arms and read her a story or two. He was only Uncle J’onn now when she needed something done quickly and quietly. She knew how it tugged at his heart strings and it wasn’t below her to do it. “I’ve changed my mind.” His face dropped at those words. He was already doing her a tremendous favor by allowing her to store the stolen government property on his land. He knew what would happen to him if they were caught. “Finish loading them up and take it all to the old tobacco wharf. Winn will know where it is. We used to use it when we ran cigarettes through here. Put them there and your part of this is over.”

 

She can feel the anger radiating off him in waves before he even spoke. She couldn’t blame him. He loved her more than he probably should. He saw her through the best and worst of times and now, he probably thought this was an unnecessary risk. “Have you lost your fucking mind, Kara? They are going to bring an entire army down on your head to find these guns. Is this really worth it?” 

 

With a soft sigh, she reached out and patted his arm a few times. “If they want them back that bad, they’ll have pay. It’s the way of the land, J’onn. Always has been. It wouldn’t be good business if we simply got rid of them.”

 

Tilting his head back, J’onn looked up at the empty, black sky. Something about the past few days had unsettled him. Something was brewing and he knew it was nothing good. “If she catches you, she won’t stop until every last one of the Peaky Blinders are dead. Are you prepared for that?” His eyes finally settle back on Kara. He can see she’s already made up her mind, but he would be remissed if he didn’t at least try to talk her out of it. 

 

“You know she was exempt from the war? Cited that she was needed back home to serve her country.” A scoff followed the words, a sneer forming on her lips. She looked at the boat and then back at J’onn. “Get it done. I’ve made up my mind. It’s an order from the Peaky Blinders.” She stared at him for only a moment longer before turning on her heel and leaving the same way she came. Maybe it wasn’t the best decision. Maybe she would regret it down the road, but she had to stick by it now. Lillian sealed her own fate the moment she laid a hand on her sister.

\-----

The sounds of children’s voices echoes off the high ceilings of the museum. Everywhere she turned, Lillian found a new sculpture or painting. A girl brushed passed her skirts and she had to cozy up to the wall to avoid having her feet stepped on. “Watch where you’re going. Where are your parents?” She scoffed out the words, but they held no real malice. It reminded her of a former life -- a life before Belfast and the IRA stripped her of everything she loved. She moved through the crowd making sure not to bump into anyone else. She didn’t need to draw anymore attention to herself. A woman in a new city exploring all it had to offer.

 

“Have you found anything yet?” She stared up at a winged statue of a woman. She found the uncovered breasts a bit distasteful before she rounded the corner. 

 

A pair of green eyes looked up from the painting she’d been studying. “No, ma’am. Nothing yet. I’ve seen a few of them around the pub.” 

 

Lillian’s face fell at no new information. She cleared her throat as she continued to pull them deeper into the museum. “I spoke to Alex, the leader. She had nothing to offer. I’m fairly sure they had nothing to do with the robbery. But trouble nonetheless.” 

 

Lena looked over her shoulder at the mention of Alex being the leader. She shook her head. “I don’t think the oldest is the leader. I’d look at the younger one, Kara. She’s the one who runs them. Everyone stops talking when she enters the room. You know she won two medals for gallantry in the war?” She cleared her throat as she continued to circle the room. She remembered what she’d been taught -- never look out of place. Just a step mother and her daughter out for the afternoon to look at art. “I think it was too big of a job for the Blinders. Communists either. They’ve got other things to worry about than taking the guns. It has to be the IRA. They’re the only one’s with the clout to pull a job like this off.” 

 

Lillian stopped pacing and watched Lena as she spoke. She looked so much like her father when she spoke like this, her eyes trained to the walls lined with paintings. Even the way she lifted her chin proudly. A twist in her gut reminded her that her step daughter was merely a means to an end. They worked together because she was a way into the Blinders. Nothing more. “You mustn’t let your personal history cloud your judgment, Lena. I know you miss your father everyday. He was a good man, but you can’t search for what isn’t there. Do you understand?” 

 

With a pointed look, Lena turned to face her step mother. “I’m aware. I know how to do my job. When I have more information, I’ll contact you. I think it’s for the best we wait until that time. I can’t risk being seen with you. Not after your... talk with Alex Danvers.” She bowed her head before bustling past Lillian and out the front door of the museum. 

 

Hand on her hip, Lena made her way through the dirty Birmingham streets. Even in the daylight, ash swirled around her. She wasn’t sure if she would ever get used to it. Heading back toward the main drag, she brushed her hair off her face. The next time she saw the gang leader she would make something of the encounter. No more longing looks and crude questions. She would make her mark. She’d make Kara Danvers hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you think. constructive criticism is always welcome. i hope you enjoyed.

**Author's Note:**

> well, there you go. i'm all for constructive criticism so please hit me up if you can see a way i can improve. if received well and my house isn't burned down, i'll work on another chapter. my tumblr is @claireunderwoods if you want to poke me there.


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